


overdue apologies

by tob2os



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cheesy, Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:26:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23266177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tob2os/pseuds/tob2os
Summary: “'that’s because they don’t exist.' a whip around back to face his locker, a hand yanking his t-shirt over his head much too forcefully. 'you’re right. busy parents. my sister’s much older than me. and my one parent figure is dead. congratulations.'”a collection of tsukishima/oikawa/kunimi + kindaichi apologizing to kageyama after they find out the contents of chapter 387 (or more accurately: the bomb is dropped on them).warning for cheesy established kagehina and soft tsukiyama.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio & Kindaichi Yuutarou & Kunimi Akira, Kageyama Tobio & Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio & Tsukishima Kei, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi, basically this is an apology fic compiled of characters apologizing to kag post ch387
Comments: 26
Kudos: 482





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the ending part of this refers strongly to my "chapter 387" fic, i recommend you read that one first!
> 
> anyway we needed this after chapter 387, no? kageyama deserves all the world and if furudate won't give it to me I Will Make It Myself
> 
> i also wrote this on 0 hours of sleep in 24 hrs after the chapter officially dropped and the urge Overtook me... please forgive any mistakes... T____T
> 
> edit: oh my god... returning to this after actually sleeping to find So many mistakes.. im sorry.. edited.. also just learned how to italicize things im so mad it didn't publish with italics the first time >:(

tsukishima was, in general, an extremely composed person. never one to get flustered at an unexpected answer or show of emotion, most of his interactions were marked by his trademark apathy. a rare handful of people had ever experienced a diversion from this characteristic of his.

so when he’d poked at kageyama that afternoon, the last thing he’d expected was this. 

they’d won their practice match by a huge margin that day, and annoyingly enough, akiteru had come to watch. really, while he still had a few months to go until college and experience official adulthood, he couldn’t fathom it affording such an abundance of free time that you’d come visit your younger brother’s unofficial practice match at your alma mater. 

while most of the team picked up pretty quickly by the sour look on his face and the increased frequencies of his “tsk”s that he was to be left alone today, his wonderful majesty, gifted with the tremendous talent not of volleyball but of unfailing oblivion, had barked orders at him per usual, shooting him less than content looks at the higher rate of mistakes he’d made. it really couldn’t be helped, not with his brother’s whoops and yells constantly bellowing in the background, shooting straight into his ears. it wouldn’t have bothered him as much, if he hadn’t already had a horrible day, riddled with unfortunate clumsiness and a less than satisfactory test score. 

deep down, he could probably admit that it was petty. still, when kageyama shot an irritated look at him post-practice, barked a “what was that today?” he felt the built-up tension explode out of him, snapping back, “what? we won. stop acting all high and mighty, king. might i remind you of your less-than stellar track record of in-game disturbances.” 

ignorance truly was bliss. although clearly irate, kageyama didn’t seem to fully grasp the meaning of his retort; it didn’t stop him from abruptly dropping his hand to his side, however, abandoning the t-shirt inside his locker that he’d been reaching for. 

“what did you say? i’m not the one who played less than 70% of my average capacity just because my brother was cheering a bit loudly on the sidelines.”

that was really the end of it. tsukishima felt his annoyance edge into the territory of anger, felt the uglier side of him throw away all caution to bubble its way to the surface. his face contorted into the deepest smirk he could manage, pouring all the bitterness and pent-up anger he had into his glare. 

“at least my family shows signs of existing. you know, for such a high and mighty king as yourself, i’ve never seen any of your family members at our games. busy parents? or maybe it’s some uninterested sibling?” 

almost everyone had filed out of the clubroom by this point, sighing at the first signs of their exchange. they’d figured by now that it was best to leave them be, they’d more or less jab at each other a few times and then haughtily turn away. only hinata was present in the room, leaned against the grey cement wall. 

it almost evaded him, the wince on hinata’s face as soon as tsukishima’s words left his mouth. kageyama’s own expression had barely changed, but he could see it on him too, the slight bristle in his stance and clenching of his jaw. when no response came out of his mouth, an uneasiness began to settle in the room, and tsukishima suddenly found it difficult to maintain the nonchalant composure he’d mastered long ago.

and then, kageyama finally opened his mouth.

they’d exchanged a flurry of colorful insults and threats in the last three years since they’d met. yet none of them had ever caught him as off guard, shaken him as much, as the quiet words he now spoke. 

“that’s because they don’t exist.” a whip around back to face his locker, a hand yanking his t-shirt over his head much too forcefully. “you’re right. busy parents. my sister’s much older than me. and my one parent figure is dead. congratulations.”

a tortured sigh came from hinata below him, and he diverted his alarmed eyes quickly to meet the smaller boy’s disapproving ones, a small frown gripping his face and a slow shake of his head telling him, he’d done it now. 

it was unfamiliar, this blank whiteness that was seeping rapidly through his brain. he heard a brief sputter uncharacteristically escape his lips, and before he could coalesce the scrambled thoughts in his brain to form a coherent response, hinata sprung up, grabbed kageyama’s hand, and led him out the door with one last glance shot at him, askance. 

he stood there, hands sprawled out aimlessly in front of him, and sighed.

-

in the shower that night, he found himself in an unforgiving fight with cognitive dissonance. a gripping debate between _how was i supposed to know? he’s the one who was acting all regal, that bastard who can’t even read a room._ versus _what i said was uncannily close to home… do i have some magical talent for picking out weak spots?_ he didn’t know whether to be pleased or horrified at the latter thought. just in that moment, the water streaming down from above him suddenly turned twenty degrees hotter, and he jumped, letting out a small yelp as his feet slipped on the soapy tub below him. he managed to catch himself on the wall, but he found his heart still thumping, heavy against his chest from something other than a narrowly-avoided fall.

-

it was horrible. 3am, and he’d been staring at his ceiling for hours, unable to drift away to his slumber. when akiteru had popped his head in a few hours prior, he’d swiftly turned his head away, ready by instinct to ignore him, when a foreign pang in his chest stopped him. it surprised akiteru more than him, honestly, when he’d graciously taken the glass of water from him, muttering a soft “thank you.” the fool had practically skipped away to his own room, but still. tsukishima found himself standing at his doorway for a while afterwards, staring at his diminishing figure, an unpleasant thought invading his brain, a _but for all the headaches he gives me, i would never want him to not be here._

when it hit him that what he was feeling was guilt, he nearly collapsed right then.

-

morning practice was uncomfortable, to say the least. kageyama, at first glance, wasn’t very different from he normally was. but he knew, when he said nothing after a particularly idiotic missed spike from tsukishima, that he’d definitely edged into unprecedented territory. 

the rest of the team seemed to either have been informed by hinata to an extent or picked up from the miasmic air about them (the ones with functioning room-reading abilities, at least) of the conflict between them. unfortunately, they themselves were thrown off by the bizarre silence between the pair usually at each others’ throats, and could say little to ease the tension that had settled into the nooks and crannies of the entire gym.

-

he knew it was bad when yamaguchi said something. 

he’d always known yamaguchi to have a wide range of strengths that he himself lacked, or didn’t care enough to acquire. one of those strengths was his perception, and he’d known this. still, when yamaguchi came into his classroom during lunch, slightly dragging his feet behind him, he’d had a feeling he was about to witness it again.

he was right.

the worst part was how right yamaguchi always was, not only about him but of everyone around him. three years had been more than enough time for yamaguchi to navigate certain complexities in kageyama’s character, and their current conversation was proof of it. 

“i heard, from hinata.” a deep sigh followed, and yamaguchi gently tapped on his hand when he kept silent, forehead refusing to separate from his desk.

“you know you’ll have to deal with it sooner or later, right, tsukki? this really isn’t something that’ll just go away with time.” he couldn’t help the groan that slipped out from that, and slowly, reluctantly, he raised his head.

yamaguchi, realizing the look on his face to be one of rare remorse and guilt, leaned back on his chair. they were quiet for a few moments, before yamaguchi released yet another show of one of his many talents: synthesis.

“you know, do you think that may have been part of why he hated the king nickname so much?” yamaguchi may as well have stabbed him in the gut. 

“because, hinata told me kageyama’s grandfather passed around his second year of middle school… and he was the one who’d taught him volleyball…” a second stab. an unfortunate montage of every single time he’d called kageyama “king” ran through his mind, and he wished his brain hell for its immaculate selective memory, less than convenient in this moment.

“i didn’t know…” he quietly murmured under his breath, and a hand slowly slid over to his on the desk. his palm on tsukishima’s knuckles, yamaguchi smiled, muttering back an “i know.” in response.

“why did he never say anything?” he knew the answer before he even finished the question. yamaguchi only nodded in response, mutual understanding clear between them. of course he would never say anything. it was as sugawara-san said: it was a grave mistake to ever assume kageyama could verbalize anything effectively. 

the bell rang for class to begin again, and yamaguchi rose. his hand didn’t leave tsukishima’s, however, and he waited for him to raise his head, to meet his gaze, before speaking again.

“tsukki… promise me you’ll apologize. because i know you both need it.” he didn’t respond, and yamaguchi sighed, crouching down to rest his elbows on tsukishima’s desk. he wrestled tsukishima’s hand off the surface of the desk, locking their pinky fingers together with minimal struggle. 

“there. now you’ve promised.” 

if only he wasn’t so right all the time, tsukishima could afford to detest his unpleasantly striking strengths. 

-

and so they found themselves, a mere twenty four hours after their last uncomfortable clubroom encounter, plunged back into the stifling aura surrounding them. yamaguchi and hinata had taken irritatingly careful measures to ensure that they’d be alone, alerting the rest of the team of the revolutionary journey of apology that tsukishima was about to encroach on. honestly, some of the members were blatantly more interested in the prospect of tsukishima apologizing than in helping reconcile his relationship with kageyama. he could feel it all throughout practice, the smirks that unapologetically lingered a bit too long when he spotted them, the gleeful wiggling of their eyebrows as they packed up unbelievably quickly and sped out the door. 

now they were alone, kageyama rustling around in his locker for far too long and tsukishima wringing his hands in front of himself. he’d never been more aware of his own body than that in moment, his lanky limbs suddenly feeling much too awkward for his joints, feet too clumsy to hold him up in a natural posture. 

kageyama finally looked up, meeting his uneasy stares with a look that was more than slightly expectant, and had it not been the current circumstances, tsukishima would’ve told him to fuck off, who did he think he was, all entitled?

but he was entitled, rightfully so, and he hated it. 

“well?”

he gritted his teeth, and willed the power of amnesia to protect him from this memory from this day onwards. 

“i’m sorry.” silence again.

kageyama turned his gaze back towards his bag, rustling through it as if he was looking for tsukishima’s apology tucked in next to his knee pads. 

“don’t just say it because hinata told you to, or something. if you’re going to do that, i’d rather you just tell me you’re glad i don’t have a family, or something.” 

his words were awful, and it was that that stirred him to blurt out words his brain hadn’t yet caught up to, a “why would you say that? nobody could ever mean that. not even you.”

the cool composure that kageyama had kept until now cracked, just slightly, with a short interlude, a rigid screech of his movement before he resumed digging inside his bag. 

“i mean it.”

“no, you don’t.” _why was he getting angry? you’re here to apologize. apology. sorry. not anger._

kageyama looked up again, this time much more exasperated in his expression. “if your apology is in argument form, i can’t quite say i’m surprised, but i’ll leave.” 

as kageyama turned around, reaching for the door, he heard scrambling footsteps scurrying away, and he cursed himself, knowing how many people had just witnessed him deliver the world’s shittiest apology.

long strides caught him up to kageyama, and he grasped at his arm.

“wait.” a pause. 

he didn’t remember swallowing a rock.

“i really am. sorry, i mean. i didn’t know. i wouldn’t have said it if i'd known. and i’m sorry about the king stuff too. i’ll stop.”

he was met with a raised eyebrow, and he almost thought kageyama was about to hand him a grade on his apology, before an unmistakably amused snort escaped him, a “you do realize we have like, six months left with each other, right? you might as well keep with the king stuff.”

his dignity had been thrown away long ago, and he stammered for a response, because _dammit, he’s right,_ and tsukishima was anything but used to kageyama being right. kageyama continued, “i should’ve recorded this. this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. almost as good as winning nationals.” 

tsukishima didn’t respond. he didn’t know if he was capable of it. 

and then kageyama continued on with his mission to break all of tsukishima’s carefully mastered composure, opened his mouth to begin, “it was when i was in middle school, second year.” 

he looked up, nodding in encouragement. 

“i was on a downwards spiral for a while, i guess.” 

it had never occured to tsukishima what he would’ve done if he’d been in kageyama’s place in middle school, left on his own devices without a single friend, without a single teammate, and now, he discovered, without a single parent. a pang in his chest, a begrudging acceptance that he, too, probably wouldn’t have coped well.

“what brought you out of it?” he asked, carefully, genuinely curious. kageyama didn’t respond for what felt like forever, breaking eye contact rather quickly and spinning around to face the wall. he was beginning to think that he’d have to apologize again for something he wasn’t quite sure of, when he spotted red blossoming at the tops of kageyama’s ears.

“...”

kageyama had said something, he was sure of it. 

the blush spreading down to his neck confirmed his suspicions of kageyama’s embarrassment, and he felt a familiar smirk return to his face. 

“what is it, oh mighty kageyama-san? care to grace me with an audible answer?”

kageyama flushed redder, before hanging his head and muttering, just audibly, “hinata.”

tsukishima could’ve puked on the spot.

-

tsukishima wasn’t sure if opposites really did attract, because hinata and kageyama seemed almost to have spawned from the exact same set of brain cells, feeding off each other’s incredibly idiotic energies every single day. even so, he didn’t think hinata would’ve barged in at that moment, making it so obvious that he’d been listening in, and charge towards kageyama with the cheesiest, brightest smile tsukishima’s ever seen on him (and this is someone whose literal name is sun).

kageyama, obviously flustered, squawked at hinata to leave him alone, which of course only prodded hinata to tease him further, and he refused to loosen his grip on his boyfriend’s waist. tsukishima took this as his sign to leave, knowing that while he’d been in the wrong, he didn’t deserve _this_ much of a punishment. rolling his eyes, he threw a quiet “i’m leaving now. i hate you guys.” back at them, and nearly escaped the room when kageyama, that snarky bastard, retorted with a “like we don’t know about yours and yamaguchi’s fixation on each other’s hands, you know we can see in your classroom during lunch, right?”

tsukishima seriously considered taking back his apology.


	2. oikawa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “'aren’t you going to say anything?' annoyance seeped through his words, and it triggered some part of oikawa that reminded him that, _i’m still his senpai, you know?_ , finally bringing him out of his silence. eyes narrowing, he responded, sighing with a 'you’re so cold, tobio.'
> 
> it was kageyama's turn to fall to silence now, because they both knew it was a stupid thing to say. a dry laugh threatened to spill over. _me? i’m the cold one?_ "
> 
> oikawa's turn to apologize: it's been a decade coming, and it's bumpy, to say the least. alternate title: hinata is a good boyfriend, again. warning for cheesy kagehina, Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **there's a lot of notes!!! i'm sorry in advance!! you don't have to read them, but i think they'd be helpful!**
> 
> 1; thank u sm for reads + kudos + comments on the first chapter, the day i posted it was the first day i've ever posted fic, and i have close to 0 experience with writing fandom related content,,, i was rly surprised that people would read let alone like it, thank u!! ur comments and stuff rly do make my day ^____^
> 
> 2; this chapter is written differently from the first. the first was written thru mainly tsukki's eyes, because it made sense for the kage/tsukki dynamic: they have a very episodic conflict, a hypothetical "tsukki fucked up. now what?". compared to that, kage/oi's conflict is much more rooted in their history together, so to reflect that, this chapter is written mostly in kageyama's pov; i think that's the only real way this oikawa apology fic could really work. i hope u enjoy it anyway <3
> 
> 3; this is significantly longer than the first chapter.
> 
> 4; i debated deleting the entire intro of this, about the first 1.5k words or so, because it was more or less just self-indulgent kagehina fluff. it still is, but i decided to keep it bc i liked the tone & background of it... and bc it's self-indulgent. gay rights

when, three years ago, his boyfriend had suddenly announced he was going to pack up all his belongings, his familiar language, culture, and family to move to brazil solely for the purpose of augmenting his training process, kageyama tobio expected many things. a blurry selfie of said boyfriend sticking his tongue out next to oikawa tooru in a show of pure chaos was not, however, one of those things. it wasn’t a possessive thing, he swore, he’s not really that kind of person, not in this situation anyway. but he’d be lying if he said that it didn’t phase him, didn’t make his limbs feel like all the muscles in them had frozen, ice cold and rock solid, locking him in his place in the middle of what happened to be the schweiden adlers’ locker room. 

it had taken a concerned tap from ushijima wakatoshi, of all people, for his limbs to thaw.

from the moment his boyfriend stepped back into his house, finally back in japan after those excruciatingly long two years, he’d practically been bouncing up and down, blabbering on about how _my roommate pedro is a fan of kenma’s! i really was worried we weren’t going to get along, but then he told me he likes anime? he’s super good at japanese!_ (as if kageyama didn’t remember all of this from the countless texts hinata had sent, verbalizing the exact same story he was rambling on about now). kageyama wasn’t one to interrupt hinata, but an uncharacteristic impatience dawned over him that day, every instinct in him demanding to spin hinata around, place his face between his own hands, and permeate through sheer staring, his growing question of _what the hell had gone on with oikawa tooru?_

again, it wasn’t a possessive thing. he trusted hinata. 

but it hadn’t necessarily been a pleasant feeling, to have seen his beautiful beacon of a boyfriend cajole so casually (infuriatingly) with someone who, kageyama ensured, kept his name at the top of their list of people to crush, irrefutably, for going on 8 years now.

energy permeation was, unfortunately, not a viable communication strategy for a mere human like him. so, doing his best to keep up a facade of undivided interest at his boyfriend’s chattering, he cursed himself, racking his brain for the smoothest, subtlest way to introduce the question to hinata. 

he lasted about two seconds before hinata abruptly stopped, cocking his head to the side with a slightly furrowed brow. he didn’t have to wonder for long what was behind kageyama’s lack of response, and he sighed, pressing down on kageyama’s forehead with his soft hands, smoothing out lines kageyama hadn't realized had formed. if kageyama hadn’t been feeling a bit overtaken by the panic of being found out, he may have relented to his instinct to exhale into his boyfriend’s touch, meet his wrist with his own lips. 

but of course, hinata read that too. sliding his hands down from his forehead to his cheeks, he patted, gingerly, encouraging him into the gentle lean, before teasingly singing, “you want to ask about oikawa-san, don’t you?”

how the hell did he know?

he considered denying it for a minute, contemplated the risks and rewards of lying to his boyfriend to his face. even with his subpar atmosphere perception, he quickly found the dead end to that route. so he caved, making a sound the cross of a sigh and a whine, and just dropped his head down to his boyfriend’s shoulder.

said boyfriend’s shoulder shook, and kageyama realized that this guy, the bastard, was laughing at him. eyebrows furrowing in their own form of a frown, he opened his mouth to complain when he felt a gentle pat on his back, a silent _i’m just joking, it’s okay._

he was a fool, really, thinking it was safe to lift his head, to meet hinata’s eyes. he expected tenderness and fondness in them, gazing at him reassuringly, beating his words to soothe him that he was there. what he got instead was poorly-masked amusement, hinata’s lips curled upwards and pursed tight in a clear attempt to hide his laughter. when their eyes met, that feeble attempt crumbled pathetically, his boyfriend’s tinkling giggles tumbling out into the air around them. if it hadn’t been at his expense, he would’ve swooned. 

“hinata!” he surprised himself with a voice whinier than he would’ve liked, but he honestly couldn’t find it in himself to regulate the contempt he felt; and his boyfriend, once he caught his frown, made an effort to contort the look on his face from one of amusement into one of tranquility.

“i’m sorry… i’m sorry.” hinata held his arms out, apologizing in a sing-songy voice to kageyama, encouraging him to return back into his arms, but kageyama was determined not to fall into that trap not again. he redirected his gaze downwards, willing himself not to lock eyes with his stupid boyfriend, _damn him and his stupid, sparkling eyes!_

that stupid boyfriend was, although bigger than he used to be, still significantly smaller than him. he was unpleasantly (he swore it was unpleasant, really,) reminded of this when those eyes he’d been trying so hard to avoid appeared in front of him, gazing upwards from a slightly crouched position. (no heart thumping occurred.)

in a petty last ditch effort at stubbornness, he flicked a section of hinata’s bangs from his forehead, silently leaned back, and crossed his arms in front of him. 

“it was so weird to get that picture, you know.” 

hinata crawled on over to where he was sitting, and while kageyama still didn’t look up, he made no move to lean away. 

“i know. honestly, thinking back, it probably wasn’t the smartest thing.” 

the caress of his voice, tinted with genuine sheepishness, relaxed kageyama, eased him enough to return his boyfriend’s gaze. at the sight of hinata's expression-the slight guilt, clearly woven in his shaky glance- kageyama was unable to resist. fighting back a smirk, he willed his voice not to give anything away as he replied, “what does that mean? so you would’ve just hidden it?”

now it was hinata’s turn to be flustered, sputtering out a “no! that’s not what i meant! you know that’s not what i meant! i wouldn’t try to hide things from you! you know i love you, right? all i meant was just, maybe, i should’ve had the foresight not to show you a picture of me with the person who… compromised… your formative years while i was already away on the other side of the world making you feel more lonely again maybe? and maybe i also should’ve-”

it was such a cute habit of his, to overshare when he thought he’d hurt kageyama. hinata had developed the habit when they had first started dating, and kageyama, still rough around the edges, had taken a few of hinata’s comments to the heart. now, hinata tended to blurt out every single thought that raced through his head to possibly explain why he didn’t intend any malice towards him, and kageyama, who first needed it, now witnessed it fondly and with adoration. 

hinata may ramble, say too much, but he never said things he didn’t mean. and from the word vomit he’d just presented kageyama, he knew hinata understood. he always did. 

-

it turned out he was the one who hadn't understood. 

four months later, kageyama tobio was faced with a dilemma even more puzzling than the infamous selfie, and that was that selfie physically manifesting in front of him in the sendai gym entrance after a particularly exhausting match. at first, he doubted his own eyes, chalking it up to similar silhouettes and compromised brain function, but as he got closer and closer, he was forced to face the cruel nature of his 20/20 vision.

dammit. _i knew it._ he should’ve suspected something today, when hinata had laughed much too unnaturally at jokes that weren’t even really jokes, scrambled out of the house a little too hurriedly, and only curtly responded to his texts. it was the downside to such easiness in his relationship with hinata, the lack of thought he gave to any disturbances in their patterns.

but now, hinata was waving at him nervously, a bundle of flowers in one hand, settled in the doorway of the gymnasium. and standing next to him, the slightly taller, annoyingly still handsome figure of none other than oikawa tooru. if kageyama hadn’t identified him by his own figure, the trademark gangle of girls not-so-quietly gushing at him a mere 4 feet away would’ve given him away. 

he should’ve pressed harder that day, when hinata came back. he should've known.

-

they were seated, him by himself, oikawa and hinata across from him, in the awkwardest dinner table in the history of dinner tables. 

it was clear to him that the two of them knew something he didn’t, the uncertainty dancing between them only driving his impatience higher and higher. even hinata’s social skills, when complemented only with silence and scraping of utensils against plates, couldn’t save the disaster that was their dinner. kageyama learned that oikawa was a fast eater when nervous, bouncing knees giving away what his better concealed face didn’t. this panicked no one other than oikawa himself, the screeching of his chair making them all wince as he announced he was going to the bathroom, much too loudly: as if trying to prove with volume that it was his bowels that were the problem, not his empty plate and uncertain hands. 

as soon as he was out of earshot, kageyama fixed his gaze onto his boyfriend. 

he wasn’t stupid.

sure, he was slow to read the room sometimes, but this was oikawa tooru they were talking about. oikawa tooru didn’t stammer over hellos. oikawa tooru didn’t sit quiet throughout dinner. oikawa tooru didn’t exchange uneasy, almost guilty, looks with kageyama’s boyfriend across from him. oikawa tooru, as kageyama knew him, would’ve taken this dinner by a storm, his talkative, slightly infuriating nature jeering through with that smile of his, teasing kageyama with a _not even going to set your spoon down for water? i see we’re still impatient._ or a _tobio-chan! it’s been so long, and you’re not jumping up and down to hear where i’ve been?_

kageyama stopped in his tracks. what was he saying? oikawa tooru, as he knew him, would never even be in this situation with him in the first place.

so he glared at hinata, a silent demand for an explanation that hinata was poorly evading. kageyama had (admittedly) many weaknesses, but a frail gaze was not one of them. only about 20 seconds had passed when hinata finally broke, relenting with a timid “he’s here for the tournament, his debut match is tomorrow…”

for the first and probably last time in his life, right now, volleyball wasn’t what kageyama was interested in. what he was interested in was the clear, uncomfortable shift in character oikawa had gone through regarding kageyama, and he was guessing it wasn’t due to any extreme identity crisis. 

“you told him, didn’t you?”

bingo. 

he could practically see hinata’s guilt physically seep out of him, gelatinous murkiness leaving his boyfriend looking more and more deflated by the second. he peeked out with one eye, and meeting kageyama’s less-than-impressed stare, he winced, frantically opening his mouth to begin, “i’m sorry! i’m really, really, really sorry. it was when we were in rio, i really didn’t mean to, you came up in conversation and he said something stupid about you and i got mad and before i knew it, it came out of my mouth, i’m so sorry!” 

one of these days, the speed of hinata’s speech was going to reach unintelligible levels. 

he carefully set his spoon down on the table, reached over with his right arm, hand hovering above his boyfriend’s left ear. and when hinata shifted his gaze, understandably baffled, he pulled, wordlessly sighing as hinata whined, a “oh my god, my ear’s going to fall off, kageyama are you sure you’d like me better with one ear?”, along with a flurry of other ridiculous, (endearingly) stupid comments. when he released him, hinata let out a sigh too dramatic, and kageyama rolled his eyes. still, he kept his hand there, softly patting the same ear nonchalantly until the long lost third figure of their party re-appeared at their side. 

hinata leapt up, chuckling restlessly, a “oh! oikawa-san! you’re back! we’re done too. how about we leave? i’ll pay.” the two men found themselves promptly swept to their feet, pushed towards the front exit of the restaurant. despite his protests, hinata managed to keep his promise to pay for their meal. 

now came a worthy contestant to the world’s awkwardest dinner table: the world’s awkwardest dirt sidewalk. this time, however, hinata seemed to brace himself, his attempts to fill the air more more urgent than at dinner. he succeeded, his “i’m really excited for my match too, it’s not for another two days though,” and “the middle blocker on your team is so tall, oikawa-san! but ah, kageyama’s team has really strong blockers too…” and “how excited are you for your debut match, oikawa-san?” leaving less empty spaces between their words. the sidewalk was wide enough for two, but with his bag, kageyama had to walk alone behind them, watching hinata sputter from walking next to oikawa to guiltily slowing down his steps closer to kageyama’s, over and over again. he quietly snorted each time. _dumbass, i don’t care. only this dumbass would be this considerate about things like this._

“oikawa-san! you’re staying at the same hotel as us, right? how about we stop by at that park along the way?”

was hinata dedicated to a life of torture?

oikawa stole a blatant glance at him, before quickly responding, “sure, that seems good.”

no response from kageyama. honestly, he’d given up, given up trying to understand what was going on and what possible outcome hinata was hoping for from this. it was quicker to move onto acceptance, really, so he did. this was an incomprehensibly bizarre situation, and he would accept it, give thanks to god for at least having the gall to cap off the absurdity here.

“iwa-chan?”

god was unkind.

-

it was a strange sight to see, four professional athletes, four grown men, sitting around each other on the ground of a public park’s tennis court. it was even stranger to see them throwing around not a tennis ball, but a volleyball, four idiots who were clearly too immersed in their professions.

thankfully, not many people were at a park at 8pm on a tuesday, and the quartet could at least rest easy knowing their low chances of public judgment. 

it turned out, however, it wasn’t the public’s judgment that would trouble them.

_stupid hinata and his stupid hinata suggestions. who plays volleyball on a tennis court? and sitting down, too?_

they had been seated around the slide earlier: kageyama and iwaizumi leaned against it, hinata and oikawa crouched at its mouth. iwaizumi, dependable as always, had succeeded in his goal of hunting down oikawa, who had apparently failed to let anyone on his team, including iwaizumi, know that he was having dinner with two juniors from... a different high school. oikawa, also dependable as always, had sat there, lectured colorfully by iwaizumi’s beautiful range of vocabulary. when iwaizumi had reached his last insult, however, the conversation had lulled yet again, and hinata, that dumbass, had blurted out that they should play volleyball, pointing to kageyama’s bag.

when all three sets of eyes had met him only with confusion, hinata had flushed, pointing to the tennis courts. this, unsurprisingly, didn’t ease anyone’s confusion, until hinata stammered out that sitting, adjusting to match the shorter net, could work.

they were disappointingly easy to convince, only a moment of hesitation flashing through their minds before they marched over, shrugging. and despite hinata’s clear attempts to head towards iwaizumi’s side, kageyama held his elbow, planting his boyfriend down next to him. a silent raise of the brow challenged him, a “what? care to explain, then?”

he could be perceptive too.

-

sitting volleyball, or the bastardized version they were playing of it, was not as simple as it seemed. kageyama’s entire depth perception was off, not surprisingly, and the ball began to fall in front of him much more frequently than hinata. _i mean, i guess it kind of makes sense, if you were to place this right now it’d be closer to beach than indoor._ he shrugged, tossing the ball over to oikawa for his serve.

there’d been a time where every serve of oikawa had thrilled him, filled him with awe as he watched such an amazing senpai of his deliver so much power and accuracy time and time again. those countless times he watched from the sidelines, he’d fantasized about being on the receiving end, _then if i defeat him, will i be the best?_. and in high school, his dream had come true. it was, if he had to say, not something he quite fantasized about anymore.

even when sitting down, limbs laid out in clumsy, unfamiliar positions, oikawa was strong. kageyama’s arms, too used to working in tandem with a mobile body, failed to dig out his serve for the second consecutive time. he blinked.

_it’s not like this is an actual game._  
_it’s fine._

when a third serve didn’t come his way, he looked up to catch oikawa staring, and he jumped, quickly averting his eyes elsewhere when kageyama noticed. the third serve followed suit with the other two.

25\. a set for oikawa and iwaizumi.

another uneasy pause. as if trying to rectify the painful silence, a familiar voice finally pierced the air, a “so you’re not going to ask me to teach you that, tobio ch-” 

he didn’t finish, abruptly cutting himself off and, effectively, deepening the tension around them. kageyama slowly peeled himself off the ground, raising his gaze to meet oikawa’s. “it’s not like you’d teach me, right?”

the air itself winced.

more silence.

exasperated, kageyama turned to hinata, opening his mouth, but before he could speak he was interrupted by a shockingly angry growl from across the net. iwaizumi sprang upwards, scowling at oikawa, smacking his shoulder. and before kageyama could suggest that he and hinata leave for the night, iwaizumi beat him to it. “come on, hinata.”

any bewilderment that hinata carried seemed to be overpowered by the sheer urge to obey iwaizumi, and all kageyama and oikawa could do was to gape at them, storming away. 

“wait! iwa-chan? where are you g-”

iwaizumi whirled back, glaring at him and cutting him off, “never mind me, shittykawa! don’t be a coward, dumbass!” to everyone’s surprise, he planted his feet down on the corner of the yard, twenty feet away, and crossed his arms in front of him, staring back at them. hinata, though clearly baffled, followed suit.

 _ah._ iwaizumi was amazing. that skill of energy permeation that kageyama had desperately desired, iwaizumi had mastered. nobody would mistake the _”and you better not try to do something funny like run away, because i’m right here and watching,”_ radiating off of him, warning both kageyama and oikawa to behave.

he wasn’t sure if communally existing in silence qualified as behaving.

kageyama felt like a dust particle, trapped in a droplet of the world’s heaviest, most humid sweat: the air only getting heavier and heavier with every excruciating second that passed, infiltrating every pore of the discomfort until he finally acquiesced. 

“i know hinata told you already. so it’s fine. just say what you’re going to say.”

no response. 

he couldn’t help the wave of irritation that washed over him. why was he having to be the one to initiate, anyway? 

“aren’t you going to say anything?" annoyance seeped through his words, and it triggered some part of oikawa that reminded him that, _i’m still his senpai, you know?_ , finally bringing him out of his silence. eyes narrowing, he responded, sighing with a "you’re so cold, tobio." 

it was kageyama's turn not to fall to silence now, because they both knew it was a stupid thing to say. a dry laugh threatened to spill over. _me? i’m the cold one?_

at the same time, it was probably a bit petty, a bit resentful. he probably should grow out of it now. _adults now. we are adults now. it’s alright, take a deep breath, say it was nice to see him again, s-_

“come hit my toss, tobio.”

he stared.

they were both setters, so they knew, knew what it meant to ask for a spiker. a spiker, to see, understand, internalize their sets, and believe in them enough to connect. it wasn’t the relationship they’d historically fostered.

his body didn’t seem to care.

admittedly, he was a little curious, too, wondering how much oikawa had evolved since they’d last met, and as he planted his feet solidly in front of him, ready for his run-up, he felt a slight excitement return to his belly. he wasn’t a spiker, but he was, for a while, oikawa’s junior. old habits truly did die hard. old, old habits. 

“....well?”

he blinked, feet landing squarely below him as the ball skimmed the line of the court, the friction of the grass pulling it lazily away from them.

“how was it?”

it was near perfect. “... good.” he knew before he finished replying that it would elicit nothing more than frustration from oikawa, he himself having experienced the pain of a vague, uninvested spiker time and time again.

sure enough, oikawa sighed, brushing his fingers through his hair as he groaned, “give me something here, tobio.”

it dawned on him that oikawa had just tossed to him, made him speak a language they both understood.

“... it was impressive, your quick calculation of my height and jump, syncing up the apex of your toss nicely to my form even though you’ve never tossed to me before.” his voice came out mellow: steady, stable, and with a matching gaze. oikawa’s eyes widened slightly at the response, before quickly protesting, “that’s a lie. i have tossed to you before!”

 _yeah, twice when i was twelve._ but he just rolled his eyes. “it’s been a long time since middle school, oikawa-san.” 

the mention of middle school seemed to make oikawa wilter a bit, regress back into the cautious posture he’d been tensed up in all night. kageyama sighed for what felt like the hundredth time today, and continued, “it’s also impressive that you managed to account for the wind.”

he could pretend to be mysterious and complex, but at his heart oikawa was a simple person, with simple joys, a setter. a smile immediately flooded his face, shoulders visibly relaxing as his expression brightened. “right? shoyo taught me that!”

_shoyo? _he’d ask hinata later.__

__it made sense. beach volleyball was played outside, where there was wind, and hinata had played beach volleyball. with oikawa. on the beach, where there was wind, when they played together. naturally, hinata would’ve helped oikawa with dealing with the wind on the beach. because they played beach volleyball, together, where there was wind. _i'm not bothered.__ _

__it was fine when hinata read his expressions near flawlessly. he rarely had anything to hide from his boyfriend, after all, and found it a treasure unique to their relationship. it irked him, however, whenever other people occasionally proved they could do it too; he’d be irate, not at them but at himself, for being easy to read. and oikawa did just that._ _

__“you have a wonderful boyfriend, you know.”_ _

__“i know.” it was possibly the first response of the night that he didn’t have to think about. _i mean, water is wet._ __

____

____

__oikawa’s voice was quiet, the hands at his sides squeezing to form fists. “i’m glad you have him.”_ _

__something in kageyama ached, and he crouched down, burying his head into his arms before mumbling out a “me too.”_ _

__a long pause between them, before oikawa began to walk. even as he kept his gaze fixated on the ground, kageyama could feel oikawa nearing closer and closer to him, until he planted himself next to kageyama, obviously waiting for kageyama to look up._ _

__so he did._ _

__time didn’t stop around them. the whole world didn’t disappear. the folds of his shoe was poking into his toes uncomfortably, the slightly chilly air making his body shiver. a nearby intersection blared with the sounds of cars, screeching and honking too loudly to complement any atmosphere this moment would’ve called for, if it had been a movie or a book. there was absolutely nothing cliche about oikawa tooru finally opening his mouth, swallowing once, and forming those words._ _

__“i’m sorry, tobio.”_ _

__he’d relied a lot on silence today, even more than usual, he’d admit that. but this one had to be a free pass. what was he supposed to say? what were you supposed to say, when your greatest role model and greatest let down crawls next to you, both physically and figuratively, and finally addresses you with a sincerity a decade overdue, utters words you thought you wouldn't hear for the next couple of lifetimes?_ _

__but oikawa was fine with silence. he’d expected it._ _

__“i know this is probably selfish of me. it wouldn't be the first time i was. to ask shoyo if he could arrange this... i wanted to see you.” _wanted to see me?_ __

____

____

__“do you remember that day i got so mad at you? back in middle school? you really didn't have a single clue what was going on around you, huh.” a small chuckle left oikawa, but he was wrong. of course kageyama had known. you didn’t stare at the eyes oikawa held that day, and leave not knowing._ _

__“ive been thinking, tobio, you know, ever since i graduated. i thought maybe i could hold it out against you forever... you were annoying and obnoxious after all and a huge idiot, and i tried to hang onto it. but then shoyo got so angry at me, looked at me so fiercely defensive, and it felt like he just blazed through all my walls and i didn’t even really know what i was holding against you anymore.” he knew the feeling._ _

__defensive?_ “what do u mean...he was defensive?” _

oikawa stared back at him, a small smile dancing on his lips. “i mean protective, tobio. i played with him and, god help you if you ever repeat this out loud, but he really is like a beacon of clear light or something,” he paused, bracing himself visibly, clenching his jaw. when he met kageyama’s eyes again, his gaze was firm, unmoving in the most remorseful way possible. “i thought, if someone like that, someone who's so obviously living his life in pure earnest, can get so angry at me over you, what did that make me? 

__of course._ kageyama threw his head back, faint laughter trickling out of him. _of course it was hinata._ _

__

__

__it seem to unnerve oikawa, who instinctively reached out with his hands, mistaking him to be falling over, choking; when he realized that the sounds coming out of kageyama were laughs, he gawked, falling back into silence until kageyama gathered himself, and sat back up. “what did you even say about me to make him so mad, anyway?”_ _

__“...”_ _

__a small mumble, clearly meant to be unheard, and kageyama snorted, “you’re going to have to do better than that.”_ _

__“...”_ _

__“well?”_ _

__“...i’m sorry in advance…. i said he should dump you. but i was joking! really. i mean, i was joking. i was just kind of bantering with him, teasing him that he could do better, because i always thought you’d probably end up alone... but the look he gave me… you would’ve thought i’d just suggested he commit mass murder.” he shivered slightly at the memory, and kageyama snickered. he was hardly surprised._ _

__“anyway. you seem to have made yourself at home in my mind much more extensively than i thought, tobio. and i'm not the only one.” kageyama, taken slightly aback, only stared in response._ _

__“when i got back, we went back to school, to visit, me and iwa-chan. we called some of the alumni too. kindaichi and kunimi were there.” the names still made him wince slightly, reminiscent of unpleasant times._ _

__“tobio. you were far from perfect. let's not twist any truths here.” _well, yeah._ was he just speaking just to shove it in his face, now? he frowned, mood souring quickly, but oikawa kept a steady gaze, silently urging him to listen._ _

__“but i was much, much, much further away from it than you were. for reasons that had nothing to do with you. it was never about you. it was about me. and i don’t know if you ever really understood that, so i want you to understand it now.”_ _

__he truly, genuinely, approaching total shutdown of his brain. the stunned look on his face willed oikawa to continue, “i came back to japan, to visit, you know that? after i ran into shoyo, when my sister’s husband passed away from cancer. takeru was 13.” the name pulled at a faint memory, and kageyama felt a pang of familiar dullness creep back into his chest. he sat there, wordless, as he heard oikawa swallow audibly, attempt to hold himself together, keep himself composed._ _

__“and i watched him lock himself in his room, only come out at night to watch the tv on silent, a ball in his lap, staring at the screen like he wasn’t seeing anything. he was looking, but he wasn’t. we couldn’t reach him.” oikawa’s voice broke, minutely, discernible to kageyama only due to the close proximity between them. strangely, a sense of shame and responsibility began to crawl into his brain, a squirming, strong desire to apologize rearing out of nowhere. before he could, however, oikawa continued, “but he had his mom, and me, and his friends.”_ _

_oh._

__he wanted to say something, but couldn’t. his tongue was so suddenly heavy in his mouth._ _

__“i won’t demonize myself... i was young, too. i had my reasons, too. but when takeru finally started coming out of his room again, when he finally agreed to go play volley with me again, i couldn't be purely happy. there was this dullness in my joy, this weird guilt that my nephew was okay.” his voice broke again._ _

__“because, tobio, i know you didn’t have the worried mom. or the persistent uncle, or the encouraging friends, and… it was like i could see you now.” oikawa stopped, and looked up, eyes brimming with sincerity and grief, boring so hard into kageyama that it hurt him, it hurt kageyama to see._ _

__“when we talked about middle school and high school- iwa, kunimi, kindaichi, and i... i couldn't really... i couldn't rely on my memories from that time period anymore, because it... was different now. because i saw you now. and it was so horrible,” tightness returned in kageyama’s chest, his breath hitching in his throat. “so horrible to think, nobody had seen you back then, back when it actually mattered.”_ _

__the green court beneath him blossomed a darker green circle, and it took kageyama the wetness on his own cheeks to realize it was not from rain, but from a rogue tear falling from his eyes._ _

__oikawa was quiet._ _

__fiercely pulling at his eyes with his sleeve, kageyama turned away before mumbling, a “keep going.”_ _

__a moment of hesitation, before oikawa spoke again, “it’s probably self-serving. me asking shoyo to do all of this so i could tell you this. and you probably wont ever forgive me. you don't need to, that's fine. but there was no way i could just not do anything, tobio.”_ _

__he slowly lay his head down on the ground._ _

__“i didn’t know if i would really see you again for a long, long time. i certainly didn’t think i’d ever be apologizing to you. but i’ve gone over this conversation a lot in my head, tobio. because i saw takeru, and i heard shoyo. and then, i could see you. and i’m… saying it now, when it’s too late, i know. but i want you to know that i see you now, and i’m sorry.”_ _

__his head felt like a hot air balloon, dazedly floating the rest of his body into the air while filling every corner of his brain with the screaming pressure of high heat. he had a strange desire to yell._ _

__so he did._ _

__the sound was cathartic, manifesting in spirals of hot air escaping his body, deflating the balloon and parachuting him back down to earth like a carefully placed feather._ _

__oikawa was startled, to say the least. but as he stared at kageyama, laying on his back on the court, knees folded, both arms held over his head, he inhaled sharply. he yelled, too._ _

__when they finally stopped, they panted, chests falling up and down as they caught their breaths._ _

__with renewed lightness in his chest, oikawa opened his mouth, a soft “you really were never one for words, i guess.”_ _

__kageyama rolled onto his side, pulling himself up to a sitting position._ _

__“... how’s takeru?”_ _

__of all the questions he could’ve asked, oikawa hadn't prepared for that one. ““takeru? hes fine! hes fine now. i mean, of course he gets sad sometimes but, yeah. he plays soccer now... says he’s going to become a doctor and all, ‘for his dad’... for god's sake, the kid is 16...” oikawa couldn’t help sighing, still remembering the day when takeru announced he was making the switch from volleyball to soccer._ _

__“he has friends?”_ _

__a blink. “lots of them.”_ _

__kageyama stared, straight into oikawa’s eyes. “good ones?_ _

_am i getting tested or something?_ the thought amused oikawa. “yeah.” 

__as quickly as he’d caught his gaze, kageyama broke it, redirecting his eyes downwards before muttering, “good.”_ _

__“and what about you, tobio?”_ _

__“... you weren't the only senpai i had, thankfully. so it was fine, in the end.”_ _

_i deserved that one._

__“... and of course…” kageyama nodded, glancing behind oikawa to the very antsy figure of his much too energetic, much too worried, and much too unintentionally life changing, boyfriend._ _

__oikawa turned around to spot hinata, very obviously reigned in solely by iwaizumi’s glare, and laughed. “really… he’s so troublesome, you know? he was so surprised when i called, so worried that he’d be hurting you by doing this and i even had to have iwa-chan intervene to convince him... you guys really are gross though. tobio this, tobio that, he didn't even care about me! he even made me promise not to call you ‘tobio-chan’, for gods sake.”_ _

__kageyama felt his face flush several shades brighter. hinata, having caught on that they were looking, took it as a sign to start bounding over, facial expression equal parts anxious and excited._ _

__“i don't expect you to befriend me or anything because of this, tobio. just... be happy. i know it’s selfish of me to say, but be happy, for me too.”_ _

__hinata reached forwards, wrapped his hand around kageyama’s like it was second nature, and squeezed. kageyama, squeezing back twice, saw hinata’s face unfurl into relief, and smiled. they began to walk towards the swings again, gathering kageyama’s bag, and oikawa watched, the two dwindling figures birthing a peculiar aching in his chest:_ _

_____i did it, right? i did. leave it be, now._

____shoving his hand inside his pants pocket, he turned around to look for iwaizumi, only to startle at his figure standing directly behind him. his stare made oikawa flinch, _his eyes are seriously impossible to hide from…_ _ _ _ _

____succinct as always, iwaizumi nodded, soft murmuring, “you did it.”_ _ _ _

____oikawa released his breath, bringing his hand to his temple to rub gently, groaning at the impending headache this incident would inevitably bring. before he could reply, however, a voice called out from behind him._ _ _ _

____“what about your serve, oikawa-san?”_ _ _ _

____confusion riddled his face, as he turned around to face kageyama. “what?”_ _ _ _

____“you finally showed me your toss. what about your serve?” an unsaid _it's the least you can do, right?_. _ _ _ _

____obviously flustered, and with disbelief clouding his words, he stammered, “are you serious? still? that was years ago! besides, you don’t even need me now, i can’t even show you that without a gym anyway, and- hey!”_ _ _ _

____kageyama was laughing at him, loudly this time swinging his bag over his shoulder._ _ _ _

____“the open gym that we came from, oikawa-san.”_ _ _ _

____“what?”_ _ _ _

____kageyama, grabbing hinata by the arm, turned back at him one last time, before taking off. “last one there is a sore loser, oikawa-san.”_ _ _ _

____and they sprinted away, leaving him gawking._ _ _ _

____the figure of his undeserved student raced away from oikawa, two sets of feet kicking up tawny clouds of dust, laughter blooming through the dirt at last._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry for hurting u takeru... hes fine now tho... and welcome home iwa-chan i am officially rescuing u from furudate's basement.
> 
> the yelling tobio was admittedly...ooc but i really wanted to write a bizarre, yelling tobio.... anyway the next chapter (kunimi/kindaichi) will prob. be up on friday :~)
> 
> perhaps i have something brewing for those "two excruciating years" hinata was away for, too... 
> 
> i post fic updates/extras/others on twt!! including this deleted excerpt from this chapter! find me on there [@/tobiotual](https://twitter.com/tobiotual) ^____^

**Author's Note:**

> oikawa will be next! #OikawaApologize coming up
> 
> find me on twt for more hcs/random writings :~) @/tobiotual


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